"sugarless" poems
whole foods white wine
gluten-free sugarless ambrosia
2.99
or 49.99
silver spoons & china glasses
or Burger King™ waxy wrap
matters not in the end
it all turns to
****
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 1:56 AM UTC
4.
Patterns of sugarless fairytales:
Field of reeds
Beckoning strings,
Robots in the garden,
Theory of the crows
Favorite lunch spot
Right in front of the window
Where we sit and drool
Our later years away.
24.
Amusement parks on fire,
The new improved hypocrisy.
Amusement parks on fire,
The science of imaginary solutions.
Amusement parks on fire,
The masses in line for the ride.
Jul 16, 2022
Jul 16, 2022 at 9:42 PM UTC
They have chopped down that tree
And the bees rush to my balcony,
Dad has cut down those pink roses,
But there are mosquitoes from Aleppo
Flying around my bedroom fan.
I sat on our study table with fairy lights
While my roommate put on her running shoes,
Mosquitoes waltzed around her sugarless tea,
Drank my blood below the knee and flew-
Away to Aleppo, far away to those dead roses.
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 8:08 AM UTC
ridin' wild with the broken down trannies in zoot suits n' water pistols aimin' to capture the sun from ten feet underground i swear it's darker than my gut insides crawlin' around in the glitter and filth i caught me diseased wealth heartache and small pond fame i caught me a sugarless daddy and a stage name i caught me a gutter and a song but still i wonder how to walk but i can sure sweet talk sssssssslither love
Jul 8, 2010
Jul 8, 2010 at 6:55 AM UTC
In a Bluebird toffee tin
Are a hundred letters –
Most of them doodle-stamped and
Delivered by hand.
Unlike the letters I sent to you
They do not smell of spritzed cologne,
(A trick that I learned from Grease)
They are not messy
Or tea stained,
But perfect powder blue
And allowing for small extravagances –
The Cursive of the Obsessive,
Cursed by neatness and perfect hearts.
I pick one out at random,
A casually cruel one sent from Rome –
I imagine you blinking on a balcony
With dazzles on your collarbone,
A teeny tiny sugarless coffee
At your side,
And a pen tapping your knee.
*“I’m not a **** at all –“* you wrote,
*"It’s only that you are gregarious
In the most DISGUSTING way.
That’s your problem not mine -
Your optimism won’t catch you.
(Cynicism won’t catch you either,
But it has the courtesy not to throw you.)
I’m stopping now,
By the time you get this
I’ll be back home.
What pointlessness we endure for one other.
I miss you, as you say,
‘ever so’ –
Bedtime here is a source of misery.”*
And then you signed your name,
Tiny,
Small,
Impossibly graceful,
Just like yourself.
You were always nasty
When you missed me.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
Paled-peach moonlight and plagiary.
Some hearts since broken.
I lost a card under a tree.
No words since spoken.
Forgot where I was bent to be.
Smokin’ on spices.
His body’s gone, sent out to sea.
Sugarless spices.
Wrote a tale and called it my own work–
These are not my own words,
they're nothin' but ruminations of
the echoes of my own two feet 'gainst
panes of glass:
*Fetishes and fish scales.
Tattoo inks traipsing through
brushed bodies and dyed sinks.
***** breadth, and beach-sand pales.
Set-to-stun eyes drawn where
none but sunrise had been.
Entertained and enticed.
Spending nights scrubbing meat,
washing scents from my skin.
****** if he remembers.
This mind's been done, drawn out,
all's swift-diced 'fore dawn's out–
Yea, I remember him.*
Opening doors.
Listening deep into the dusk's din,
there's nothin' but the hum of a fan
through stark, sterile silence–
Sentimental foot-prints in the sand.
Silver-seamed sunsets.
Sole sailors soul-searchin’ whole seas.
Forest fire sunsets.
Forgettin’ where we ought to be.
I never think of you.
You best not dare to think of me.
Morn’s made out like bruised fruit
fallen 'neath forget-me-not trees.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 10:38 PM UTC
In a Bluebird toffee tin
Are a hundred letters –
Most of them doodle-stamped and
Delivered by hand.
Unlike the letters I sent to you
They do not smell of spritzed cologne,
(A trick that I learned from Grease)
They are not messy
Or tea stained,
But perfect powder blue
And allowing for small extravagances –
The Cursive of the Obsessive,
Cursed by neatness and perfect hearts.
I pick one out at random,
A casually cruel one sent from Rome –
I imagine you blinking on a balcony
With dazzles on your collarbone,
A teeny tiny sugarless coffee
At your side,
And a pen tapping your knee.
*“I’m not a **** at all –“* you wrote,
*It’s only that you are gregarious
In the most DISGUSTING way.
That’s your problem not mine -
Your optimism won’t catch you.
Cynicism won’t catch you either,
But it has the courtesy not to throw you.
I’m stopping now,
By the time you get this
I’ll be back home.
What pointlessness we endure for one other.
I miss you, as you say,
‘ever so’ –
Bedtime here is a source of misery.”*
And then you signed your name,
Tiny,
Small,
Impossibly graceful,
Just like yourself.
You were always nasty
When you missed me.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 7:13 PM UTC
Tracing the Synapses of Spirituality
Above the influence under the guidance
Resulting publication phantasms of the living
Private institutions funded by unnamed sources
Don't ask the telling
Loneliness laughter between the physical realm
You can never go back when your not alone
My nervous pulses pleasantly awaken me
Overdosed fear looking straight dead at me
I couldn't move or ask what's happening
For my speech motor controls were still hibernating
My multi dimensional body was slowly forming
I tripped on cosmic junk and fell back in my body
A mere second of realm walking
The natural effects of the human being
Silent sleep inside powerful dreams
Sugarless green tea after theta wave sitting.
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 6:15 PM UTC
leads to hyper-
active hyper-
dependant
carbo-
fffffffFFFFIIIIiiiiIIIIIZZzzzzzZ
zzzzlleeee pOP
aggggaachugggggggaaaNGGGulp.
-nated
people
who fin
d
it hard to face the
sugarless silence
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 4:56 PM UTC
I wish that you were like one of NASA'S
Prime, starry, space-bound satellites
So that when these tears fall,
You would locate the source
& Curse a thousand words coded in binary
To spill out, sugarless, filling an organized void.
And before you ask, no, this void is not my brain
Because despite claiming I don't know what to say,
I am not speechless, but rather,
A hundred words combining a second chance
That I am afraid I will pick an unforgivable combination.
Our hearts are not lock and key,
No, they are skies full of passing clouds
That never seem to be able to stop touching,
Whenever they find each other's company.
I fear you will take these eyes
And shatter them like glass orbs
When they bend light
Just so that you can say that I never saw it in us, too.
Never saw the countless times
You've lost your footing
And landed in my arms because
Touching each other felt like the
Warmest thing to wake up to.
You've no longer a stray whisker,
No eyelash on your cheek.
The stars aren't even out tonight,
And this is all adding up.
There is no more of a chance
To make a wish upon us.
And tarot card after tarot card,
Each petal off of a daisy
Will never educate me again
On whether you love me or not.
I fear there's another world out there
One you've already seen;
A city you've fallen in love with,
And I can't even hitch a ride to see you
In a town I still adore.
I've known from the start:
There's something about you.
But I can't tell if it would hurt any less
Than to give it up
And say 'we gave it a go'.
I want to know that you can see me, still,
With the same eyes
You would fall into a trance through.
And I'll keep writing letters to you
On my bones
Just to know that you can finally see:
You're in my core.
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 12:16 AM UTC
roses are black
thoughts are dark
look what has become of this little girls soul
rainbows are gray
unicorns are magicless
dreams are nightmares
lollipops are sugarless
this little heart is crippled and laced with scars
from all the times it was abused and hit by cars
a soul once so bright
has now become so dark
when people see it they run in fright
afraid of what they might come to fight
oh look at this fragile little soul
could you be the next to feel its toll?
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 1:34 AM UTC
and i fear when seasons
and anything in particular
changes
its rooted far from rational explanation
reason removed, because i know
change is good
and those things that come with it
i know, i know
twelve thousand fold
for how long have i been told
fearing of change
is folly
when life is change
odd and strange
as paintings by dali
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 2:14 PM UTC
tell me love confessions
of how you miss me
and love me
and are doubtless
then your words
materialize
a sugarless sweet
calorie free taste
and there is but no
sweeter satisfaction
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 9:39 PM UTC
Dread is what I feel when I force conversation to escape my lips
Dread is what I hear when I hear your voice, or any memory you narrate in my head
Dread is what I taste when I taste sugarless coffee, bitter and desolate, always how you liked it.
Dread is what I see, when my minds eye looks back into the nights I held you near. It's what I see, when I see your half dead eyes faking joy.
Dread is what I smell when I get into my car and smell a cigarette or a perfume that resembles yours.
My life is nothing but dread. Every night is a funeral and every morning a death.
But there's still Breathe, so most would say I'm alive. It's as if they forgot our nature and what it is to strive.
My senses shackle me to this cross, which faces a movie screen of terrors. I watch and cry, continually suffering with widows and beggars.
Shut it off, I wish I could, you see, but another fear that holds life dear, Will not set me free.
It's as if my brain holds my chain and dangles above the key. It won't let me out, with the painful doubt that I will cease to be.
But it doesn't add up, this is what I want? An expensive life, a beautiful wife, something I can flaunt.
The hypocrisy, is like this democracy which binds us to despair.
You used to stand by and cover my eyes, give me a rest from the pain, but my wounded flesh and my horror cries left you with disdain.
So then you left, what did I expect? The world shackled you not, so I'll just remain up here, shackled with fear, watching this eternal plot.
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 3:37 AM UTC
You are the prettiest
You are the cutest
If I had to invent a new word
I would call you beautifulest
You are the most charming
You are most intelligent
I have never seen someone
Who is so elegant
You are the girl
That every guy desires
Baby, I love you a lot
For you, my heart is on fire
A sense of euphoria grips me from head to toe
When I think about the memories we share
Right from the fun times to the vulnerable moments
My innermost feelings, to you I’ve laid bare
We’ve been through a lot, we’ve come a long way
I have no regrets, I’d do it all again if I had to
Regardless of the bumps and bends
Because in the end it’s just me and you
being friends with you
Made me sore
Right from day one
My heart wanted a lot more
Just like how absence of salt
Makes food tasteless
Your absence in my life
Would take away all the happiness
Just like how dessert tastes bland
When it is made sugarless
Without you, everything I do
Would be utterly useless
I love you
Atif
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 1:21 PM UTC
If alcohol is a crutch for one's brain
then narcotic pills are a candy cane
not if you're looking to manage pain
(although those intentions can change)
but to hop on the sugar rush train
just know once the pez dispenser is drained
you'll have to walk all the same
after the sugar train sugar crashes
and you must escape the sugar ashes
of a powder overload
that people confuse with blow because you explode
once your sweet tooth is exposed
you can barely speak because that's all that's left of your teeth
and your only way of relief
is atop a pixie stick peak
surrounded by a cocoa ocean
perpetuating turbulent motion
so you look for sugarless lifesavers
like that's asking a light favor
after you spited neighbors
over candy flavors
but now you need their help to walk
they'll think you're nothing but talk
because you thought your cane was the kind used by pimps
but take it away and watch how you limp.
May 15, 2023
May 15, 2023 at 1:24 AM UTC
Sugarless ideas sleeping furiously
Wake my every week badly obviously;
No sugar, no sweetness comes to me kindly,
I am just rolling my days down tastelessly, blindly.
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 7:43 AM UTC
lemonade mouth taste, sugarless lemonade
thought we were past this phase but i guess
i was wrong again this time. my heartbeat is
breaking my rib cage, diaphragm disappearing
leaving me breathless and bleeding. you smiled
again today so i started digging my own grave:
six feet deep, shovel clanging like your laughter,
making me torn between slowing down and
working faster, eager to hear it over and over
but hesitant to let it be over. it’s a bittersweet
symphony, and you’ve reduced me back down
to cliches again. i wish that i knew how to just
be your friend, neptune and jupiter and nothing
more, but your eyes are just so warm. how can
we not be venus and the sun? i’m spinning,
reeling backwards with you at my center,
the planet of the goddess of love-- i’m mercury,
one day with you feels like two years (would
two years with you feel like one day? probably)
and my mood swings so drastically around you
because i’m too close to have any kind of
atmosphere, always running too hot or too cold,
no middle ground-- but who am i to talk, with
you and your solar flares, your cold spots. how
do i get into the goldilocks zone with you? just
right for life, just right for evolving into something.
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 1:39 PM UTC
It's another Tuesday afternoon,
The stench of gloom in the air overpowered,
By the smell of sugarless, herbal tea.
I should be on my way soon,
I look down, the eyes of a coward,
Surrendering to words that escape me.
"I’m leaving, on a hot air balloon,"
"I won't be back till the hills are snow cowered,"
"Lifelines of white, against a flat lining sea."
"But I'll be back soon,"
I say, but she's gazing skyward,
"So this is the night, He promised it to be."
"Too many months of June",
"Has my poor heart encountered,"
"It is time for her to be free."
"And if this shiny moon,"
"Were to be crimson and flowered"
"Wouldn't make a better goodbye, than this is to be."
So the birds sang a tune,
We looked back, staring forward,
One final time, we took our first sip of tea.
"If this is to be,"
"Our last cup of tea,"
"May it be with sugar, grandma,"
"Two spoons for you,
Two spoons for me."
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 3:44 AM UTC
Sugarless ideas sleeping furiously
Wake my every week badly obviously;
No sugar, no sweetness comes to me kindly,
I am just rolling my days down tastelessly, blindly.
Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 1:38 AM UTC
I have torn countless pages off of my copy
These hands do not dare rub the words
Every orphan paper a cup of sugarless coffee
Pencil morphs to shield, eraser be my sword
The room resembles a scrambled puzzle
However insignificant they all have a role
Silent yet powerful like guns with muzzle
Broken to the naked eye but contribute to a whole
May 14, 2020
May 14, 2020 at 3:05 PM UTC